


Uninvited Guest

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers, 2019 [6]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which a blizzard brings a sled dog into the tunnel--and then things get even more complicated.





	Uninvited Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Day 6 prompt for Inktober: Husky

It had been a cold, miserable winter night—a blizzard had been blowing all day and promised to continue into the night, and not even Carter, who had boasted about handling North Dakota winters could bring himself to do more than hunker down in his bunk like everyone else. Underground activity had come to a screeching halt, and though it was disappointing not to be able to throw more sand into the gears of the enemy’s war machine, no one could admit to wanting to be out in the subzero temperatures, so they all struggled to keep themselves warm with as many blankets as they could salvage and as much hot tea and coffee they could make.

It was at some point at 1:00 in the morning that the men of Barracks 2 were awakened by the sound of howling coming from beneath the barracks.

“What in blazes is that?” Newkirk grumbled through a yawn. “Don’t tell me one of those daft dogs ended up in the tunnel!”

“Well, can you blame him? He probably wanted to get out of the cold!” Carter said. “But he’s going to wake up the colonel and everyone else if he keeps that up—the guards, too!”

“Then we’d better stop that howling,” Kinch said. “Louis, do you have anything that can keep him contented for a while?”

LeBeau grumbled, but pulled out the soup bones he’d been saving and slipped his coat on before heading down the tunnel entrance. A moment later, the corporal let out a stunned exclamation.

“_Quoi_!?”

“Louis, what is it?” Newkirk asked.

“The dog is not one of ours!”

“How can you tell?” Carter asked.

“…Come and take a look.”

Newkirk, Carter, and Kinch exchanged glances, but headed down into the tunnel after grabbing coats and jackets—and promptly paused as they saw LeBeau giving soup bones to a Siberian husky.

“Boy, would you look at that!” Carter said. “It’s one of those Russian sled dogs! What’s it doing here?”

“Obviously, it took a wrong turn somewhere,” Newkirk intoned. “Maybe it mistook the blizzard for the Eastern Front!”

“It belongs to someone—it has a collar,” Kinch observed.

“But there is no tag,” LeBeau added.

“Well, maybe there’s a name on the inside of the collar,” Carter wondered, unfastening it. “Let’s see what we’ve got here…” He trailed off, his eyes widening.

“Anything?” Newkirk asked.

“A coded message! Look!”

The inner side of the collar was embroidered; it looked perfectly normal at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the stitches were long and short—Morse code. Carter handed the collar off to Kinch, who took it to the radio desk and began to decide it.

He had only been working for a few minutes when he groaned and facepalmed.

“Kinch? What happened?” Newkirk asked, as he, LeBeau, and Carter darted over in concern.

Wordlessly, Kinch handed them the piece of paper he had just started writing the message on—he had only decoded the first words of the message, but they were enough to spell out the trouble in store for them:

“_Dear Hogan Darling_…”

“Uh-oh…” Carter said, his eyes wide again.

“Marya!” LeBeau exclaimed, as Newkirk also facepalmed now. He ran over to the husky and gave him more soup bones. “He is an emissary from my amour! My true love!”

“If she’s your true love, then I’m the ruddy King of England,” Newkirk quipped.

“She’s not coming here again, is she!?” Carter asked, terrified at the thought. “With the blizzard like this, we’re limited with what we can do—and she makes us jump through all sorts of hoops!”

“Give me a moment to decode the rest…” Kinch instructed.

They waited, and Kinch read out the message—

“_Dear Hogan Darling, I am entrusting you with my dearest Nikolai, and a very valuable piece of film embedded in this collar, containing images of sensitive documents that, while Russia already has, England could also use. I am sure you will find your usual clever way to get it to them. But do be careful, for there are at least a half dozen German officers en route to Stalag 13 desperately looking for it; I trust that you can find a clever way to outwit them, as you also do so marvelously, and keep both the film and my Nikolai out of their clutches. Give my regards to my small one_.”

“Her small one—I am still her small one…!” LeBeau sighed.

“I’m sorry, but did you miss the part about a half-dozen desperate officers headed our way while we’re cut off by this blizzard!?” Carter exclaimed, as Newkirk swatted LeBeau with his garrison cap. “What are we going to do!?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve got to wake up the Guv’nor and inform ‘im about this mess,” Newkirk said. “Maybe then we can come up with an idea to save ourselves.”

The four of them headed for the tunnel entrance, back to the barracks, but paused as they heard Nikolai following them eagerly, his tail wagging.

“…I’ll say this for Marya,” Kinch intoned, after a moment. “It takes a special kind of talent to create this much of a stir without actually being here.”

The others nodded, knowing that they had a long night ahead—and then some.


End file.
